Fight for your Life
by airwolf addict
Summary: Story Fifteen. Stubborn as always, String is determined to get out of the hospital the fastest way possible despite Caitlin's protests and the doctor's concerns...
1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

"When can I go home?"

"String, be patient. Not too long ago we thought we'd lost you; you can't just march out of here like nothing happened."

He had recently been transferred to the hospital in Van Nuys, and that had only intensified his requests to go home.

"That was a week ago. I'll be fine; I just want out of here."

"I'll ask the doctor for an estimated schedule," Caitlin promised. "You stay until they give you the all clear though because you won't rest a day. I know you, you'll go straight back to work trying to pretend none of this ever happened." She got up to find a doctor. "I'll be right back so don't try anything."

After she left, he let out a pain filled groan he'd been holding in. She didn't know half the pain he was in and it was best that way. If she did, she'd probably be asking the doctors to let him stay longer and give him even more pain medications. He was hazy enough, anything else would totally knock him out.

"His muscles have atrophied some from nonuse, and he's still on a lot of medications. If he heals exceptionally quickly, another week and a half."

Caitlin came back in to give him the news.

"No. I can't take much more of this place."

"I know you want to go home, but he's right. Another week and a half won't kill you."

"It might."

"Oh don't be like that you'll be fine."

\A/

The next week, the doctor came in for his daily morning examination. "Your progress is amazing. If everything continues to be good, you can go home in two days."

He breathed a sigh of relief. He'd been afraid that they'd somehow figure out the misery he was going through and make him stay longer. Two more days was plenty. "Thank you."

"Now, once you go home, you'll still need plenty of rest, a healthy diet, and you'll need to relax and take it easy."

He nodded in agreement, but Caitlin could almost hear him thinking, yeah sure, whatever I damn well please and I don't care what you think.

Two more days and he could go home.

\A/

"I said if everything continued to go well he could go home," Dr. Thomas said, "but I'd like to keep him for observation a while longer."

"Why?" Caitlin asked. "Is something wrong?"

"That's what I'd like to find out," The balding older man replied. "We were planning to release him today, but last night his EKG and stress levels were far above normal last night. I wasn't sure if you'd like to tell him of if you'd prefer me to."

"I'll tell him, but he's not going to like it."

"I understand. We'll try to get him out as soon as possible, but those readings being so high could point out an underlying problem."

"Alright," Caitlin replied. String wasn't going to like this one bit. "I do want what's best for him."

"Can we leave now?" he asked impatiently the second Caitlin had set foot back inside the room. He had already wasted way too much time here.

"They want to keep you for observation," she told him frankly. It wouldn't matter how she broke the news he wouldn't like it any better.

"No observation. I just want to get the hell out of this place."

"Your EKG and stress levels were abnormally high last night. All they want to do is make sure everything is alright. So help me String, you make this so much more difficult than it needs to be; Just let them help you."

"I don't need any help," he argued.

"Maybe not, but you are going to get it. It shouldn't be too much longer; You'll be fine."

\A/

Dom came up to visit him later that evening.

"Dom, can't you persuade them to let me go?" String pleaded. "Nobody will listen to me."

"What are they keeping' ya for? Last I heard, you were being released tonight."

"The doctor decided my stress level was a little high," he answered grumpily.

"That's all? Ok, I'll see what I can do."

Dom left the room and walked down the white tiled hallway to the nurses station. "When he's free, can I speak to Dr. Thomas?"

"No problem," the cheerful blonde answered. "In fact, he's coming down the hall now."

"Is there something I can help you with?" the doctor asked cordially.

"My friend is here, Stringfellow Hawke," Dominic began.

"Ah yes, Mr. Hawke. He's a mighty determined fellow."

"He wants to know why his stress levels being a little off is such a big deal. As you are undoubtedly already aware, he wants to go home. He has been here two weeks and four weeks at the hospital in Annapolis before that."

"Normally stress levels being slightly off isn't really a problem, but Mr. Hawke is a little different. He was very seriously injured, and we just want to make sure everything is on the mend before we let him go and that he gets the best possible treatment if there are any underlying problems. Besides that, his EKG and stress levels weren't a little high, they were extremely high. We can't figure out any logical reasoning for him to suddenly be worked up about. If you saw his charts you'd know exactly what I mean; He was perfectly fine, then they drastically rose higher and higher, only to drop back down to almost normal range again," he explained. "All I ask for is a little patience and some more time."

"Thank you, doctor," Dom said politely before returning to String with the answer.

"So?" he queried before Dominic had even fully made it into the small room.

"No. He said they weren't a little high they were through the roof." He looked up at the clock- almost eight o'clock- visiting hours would be over in five minutes. "Listen String, I know you don't want to be here, and I don't blame you, but it doesn't look like you have much choice. I'll let your brother know how you're doing and come by tomorrow."

"Don't bother," he grouched and rolled over uncomfortably.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

He pulled out the IV and grabbed the few belongings he had there. String crept carefully into the hallway and toward the elevator. Pain throbbed throughout his body, but he'd just have to get used to it and take a few generic pain killers; there wasn't enough time to grab anything on the way out. Just outside the hospital he caught a taxi.

"Where to?" the driver asked.

He gave the address to Saint John's apartment.

"You sure man? You don't look so good."

"Just get me there."

The driver obeyed, trying to make the best possible time for once instead of letting the meter run. If something happened to the guy in the back he didn't want to be held accountable.

Arriving at the apartment complex, String paid the driver and wearily stumbled toward his brother's unit.

"Just a minute," Saint John yelled upon hearing the knock at the door. "Alright, thanks Dom, bye." He hung up the phone and went for the door, puzzled at who it could be this late. The only one usually around by now was Mike Rivers, but he was out of town doing something for the Airforce.

"Who is it?"

A muffled answer from the other side sounded a lot like String, but he was still in the hospital.

"Who?" he asked even as he pulled the heavy door open.

"String," the exhausted slightly younger man answered again. Saint John helped him to the sofa, but before he could form a question his brother made his request. "I need a ride to the cabin. I-I'd do it myself but the medicine…" he said woozily. "Will you fly me to the cabin?"

"What are you even doing here? Dom just told me you were still in the hospital," Saint John blurted out.

"And I told him not to bother telling you. I wasn't going to stay there any longer; they had been going to let me go today anyway."

"What about the EKG and stress levels?" Saint John asked worryingly. "They were trying to help you."

"I'm fine," String assured him. "That's the least of my problems."

"You always are," Saint John retorted. "It may not be anything big now, but it can turn into something serious."

"Then I've been screwed for the last seventeen years. It was a nightmare, that's all."

It made sense. A nightmare would increase brainwaves and stress levels, and String's could be pretty gruesome at times. "So you decided to just take off?"

"Pretty much," String replied matter of factly. "Nobody would listen to me. Now, are you going to fly me to the cabin or do I have to fly myself?"

"I'm not sure you'd make it right now," Saint John said noticing the exhausted figure threatening to collapse right before him. "You look pretty tired and I don't even know half the stuff they've got you on."

"That's my problem not yours," he snapped.

"Alright, alright, I'll take you, but can it wait until morning? You can crash here tonight; it looks like you're about to do that anyway."

"Fine," he subsided, "but we go first thing in the morning."

"You want the bed?" Saint John offered. He couldn't in good conscience let his brother, who was obviously in pain, take the lumpy couch without at least offering the bed.

"I'll sleep here," he answered, grimacing as he dropped down into a laying position.

"Suit yourself." And with that, Saint John went back to bed.

\A/

Bacon sizzled in the pan before it was added to two of the plates. Saint John finished the coffee and poured it into the mugs.

Hawke pushed away the covers his brother had bestowed on him and groaned in pain as he struggled into a sitting position. He carefully padded barefoot into the kitchen where Saint John and Le were setting out breakfast.

"So much for first thing in the morning," Saint John teased. "I've never seen you sleep so late in my life."

"What time is it?"

"Just past nine."

"Nine?! We gotta leave now or Cait'll be at the hospital and she's going to be mad when she finds out I'm not there."

"Relax. Five minutes to eat breakfast won't kill you. Here," he said handing him two pills, "Aspirin. You're going to need them and a lot more."

String gratefully swallowed them without question. He may be somewhat better, but he wasn't ready to be off all the pain medicines. Next he took the fork in hand and began digging through the plateful of eggs and toast. It tasted so much better than the hospital food that he was almost tempted to even try the bacon. "Thanks-for everything."

"What are brothers for? Now let's get to the cabin."

\A/

Caitlin buckled Chance into his seat and started up the Jet Ranger. Another one came around the mountainside. It was the other Santini Air chopper. She shut off her borrowed helicopter and waited for the second one to land.

"String?" she asked questioningly. "What are doing here?"

"What does it look like?"

"I know, but you're supposed to be at the hospital. Her anger returned. "I know you don't like the places, but you have to stop being so stupid about your healthcare."

"It wasn't anything to be worried about," he said calmly.

"Nothing to be worried about! It was too, and you are going straight back to that-"

"It was a dream," he interrupted.

"A what?"

The reason the readings were so high is because last night I had a nightmare."

"That's all? You're sure?"

"Yeah, that's all."

"I'm sorry," she apologized, "but you don't always listen to common sense when your health is concerned, and I figured you were just being pigheaded."

"I know. I'm just glad to be home."

"Saint John, when you fly back up, will you tell Dom I'm taking the day off to care for String? He looks like he needs it."

He shook his head persistently until a nauseating wave of sickness hit him. "Go to work. I'll be fine."

She looked at him skeptically. "Sure you will, just like you look fine, and you probably feel fine too."

"I feel like I got hit by a semi truck," he admitted, " actually, that might have been less painful, and I probably don't look much better, but I don't need you standing over me all day either. I'll stay here and be a good boy. I promise. You can even take both choppers to make sure I don't run away; I wouldn't get very far on foot."

"You win this time, but remember, you promised."

As promised, he took a warm bath, had a small lunch, and even took a nap, all without even thinking of leaving. What he'd told Cait about not getting far was far more truth than she needed to know.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

Michael walked in the front door and came upon Hawke sleeping on the sofa. 'Maybe he was more sick than he admitted,' Michael thought grimily, 'and what he had said didn't sound very good, but he had been know to downplay his injuries before, and being able to walk in on him was a very rare event.' Making himself at home, Michael poured himself a glass of wine and went to admire the artwork String had inherited.

String woke up and rolled painfully to his other side, no more running into the line of fine without a good reason, he told himself, ok he had had a good reason but he should've waited. Opening his eyes, he saw Michael. He hastily sat up, immediately regretting doing so. "What are you doing here?"

"Just thought I'd check up on you after you disappeared from the hospital last night. I wanted to make sure you were alright."

"I'll live."

"You sure? Honestly, you don't look very good, and I didn't get any angry glares when I came in."

He got one now. "I said I was fine."

Michael still looked skeptical.

"Look, if you have something to say. Say it; otherwise you can go ahead and leave. You've done your good deed and now you can go tell everyone how bad I look."

"Marella went on a date last night, but swore she'd be on time this morning. On time was five hours ago and she's still not back."

Hawke nodded drearily.

"I think you need some medical attention, and I'll get a hold of the others to look for Marella."

"No medical attention."

"Hawke, go look at yourself, you need it."

"No. I promised Cait I would be fine and I would stay here. I intend to do both of those."

Michael shook his head. "Fine, but you aren't going to be there flying Airwolf. You're not in near enough good condition to fly so don't get any ideas, and please Hawke, take care of yourself."

"Thanks for your concern, but I'll be alright."

Michael climbed back into his waiting FIRM helicopter, and Lauren took off.

Alone again, Hawke let out a moan of pain; he couldn't understand why he wasn't healing as fast as he usually did. If anything, he felt worse. Maybe it was being off all the painkillers at one time, yeah that was it. He trudged off into the kitchen to look for some medicine; there had to be something useful in there somewhere.

\A/

"Marella's gone missing?" Marella knew too many secrets and too much about Airwolf to just go missing, and she had promised she'd be back on time; something was definitely wrong.

"She said she'd be to work before nine, and she never showed up," Michael explained.

"You don't have any clues as to where she might be?" Caitlin asked.

"She had a date last night at La Cachette Restaurant. That's the last thing I heard from her."

"Do you know who she was dating?"

"No."

"Alright. We can go check there, but without something else there isn't much chance of finding her."

\A/

Caitlin dressed up in a shiny green evening gown with strapped gold colored heels. She was just finishing her hair when Saint John returned to the hangar, dressed in a becoming dark suit.

"Ready?"

"Almost," she answered.

They planned to dine at the same restaurant Marella and her date had the previous night, hoping to dig for some clues without being too conspicuous. String wasn't well enough to go, or even babysit for that matter, so Dom volunteered to watch Le and Chance while Caitlin and Saint John went out.

It wasn't long before they were handed two menus. They ordered from the list of exquisite French entrees.

"It will be just a few minutes," the waiter informed them as he picked up the menus.

As soon as he was gone, Caitlin queried, "Where do you suggest we start?"

"Don't worry," Saint John answered, "I have a plan."

\A/

After dinner that night, they both climbed into Saint John's vehicle. Arriving back at the hangar, Saint John offered to fly Caitlin back to the cabin.

"Thanks, but I should be alright."

"I can fly you there and bring the chopper back," he said, "since we flew in together this morning there's still one at the cabin."

"Ok then."

Together they picked up the kids and flew toward the cabin. Darkness had settled over the area long ago, and the only visible light was a single light in the kitchen. "Maybe he already went to bed." She lifted Chance from his seat. "Thanks for the ride," she said as she headed in.

Saint John waited on the dock for Caitlin and Chance to reach the cabin, and then restarted the helicopter, about to take off when he heard a scream just beyond the door.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

Caitlin wandered into the living room, no sign of him. Seeing a dim light in the kitchen, she walked over there. String was lying in the floor, sweat covered and she couldn't even tell if he was breathing at all.

Saint John quickly flung open the door, not even thinking to shut off the helicopter. He rushed inside to hear what the matter was.

She knelt down to see if he was still alive. He was breathing, just barely and had a faint pulse. "Help me get him to the chopper. We got to get him to a hospital now!"

Every critical second dragged on endlessly. The miles to the hospital had to be multiplying, never before had it taken so long to get there. Shallow breaths became even less frequent, he was slipping away. His body temperature had already dropped well below normal.

"Hang on," Saint John silently prayed. Everything would turn out ok; it had to.

After a tormenting long time, the hospital finally came into view, just a little farther.

"Saint John we're losing him!" Caitlin cried out urgently from the back.

"We're almost there," she answered, desperately hoping they wouldn't be just seconds too late.

\A/

_Midnight, Dominic Santini's apartment…_

The phone rang continuously. Muttering all the way, Dom rolled to the edge of the bed and shuffled tiredly down the hall. Who was crazy enough to call at this hour?

Panic stricken, Caitlin was on the other end. "Dom," she began trying to get her message out before worry overtook her again.

"What is it?"

"I'm here…. At the hospital…"

"You're where?"

"With String. Come please, there's something wrong, really wrong."

"Ok, I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Please hurry."

She returned to Saint John and her son in the waiting room. "I called Michael," he told her, "he's on his way."

Thanks. Any new news?" she asked weakly.

"None."

She blinked back a few tears, but more fell.

"Oh God, please let him be ok."

They sat in silence for the next ten minutes, each wanting to hear some good news, but only if it was good.

"You have any idea what is wrong with him?" Saint John asked.

"No, He didn't feel too great this morning, but that was because of being shot. He never said anything about being sick and…. I just don't know."

Dom came in, shirt untacked and his red Santini Air cap shoved on his head rather than combing his hair. "Is he alright?"

"I don't know," both of them answered. That wasn't a good sign. Not even a single encouraging word.

Michael entered the room. Even Mr. Clean looked a little rumpled; maybe midnight hospital runs weren't their best thing.

At long last, one of the doctor immerged from the emergency room, but it didn't look like he had much good news. They all tried to brace themselves for the worst, but they knew what the worst was, and if he wasn't there yet he wasn't far away.

The doctor could sense the tension, but that only made his news harder. "Well, he's not dead. Unfortunately, he's not much better. We have him on the ventilator and are regularly checking his vitals, all of which are extremely low. As far as what's wrong with him, the gunshots were far more complex than anyone ever realized. We removed two bullets, but since he left before he had a chance to do a second check, somehow we missed one. This isn't your typical light machine gun fire. They are slow acting poison filled. By removing the first two and them being slow release, we didn't see the results until now.

"Currently I have him on just about ever painkiller and antibiotic we have, but nothing has helped yet. In thirty years of practice I've never seen anything like this."

He wasn't dead, that was good; he was dying and there wasn't a thing they could do about it, that was very, very bad.

"How long?" Cait asked.

"I'm sorry, but a week and a half if he's lucky. Without an antidote, it's like fighting blindfolded; you don't know where your enemies are and how to defeat them."

"What about with an antidote?" Saint John inquired.

"If he fights and the antidote is strong and given soon, he might make it, but the probability of survival is still only about ten percent," the doctor answered. "I'm sorry, I really am. If there's anything is anything I can explain or help you with just let me know."

"Can we see him?"

"The poison is only spread throughout the body by the blood, so you can see him, but only one at a time."

The doctor led them down the hall in the ICU to a little window they could see him from. "If you want to go in just tell one of the nurses over there."

"Saint John, you go first," Caitlin told him. "String would want to see you."

He politely declined and turned to leave.

Dom gaped. He couldn't just leave. His brother that had risked his life countless times for him was dying here, and he planned to just walk out. Dominic didn't care how much he disliked these places or whatever his problem was. He needed to stay. Dom started down the hall after him, but he was gone.

"What was that about?" Michael questioned upon Dom's return.

"He left. He just turned tail and left," he said exasperatedly. "How can he do that?"

Michael gave a puzzled expression. "I don't know, Dominic. I've always considered those two closer than Hawke and I, but even I can't turn a cold shoulder on this one, and I sure as hell know Hawke wouldn't do that if it were Saint John in there. He might not be useful to the rest of the world. But he would spend every last moment he had with his brother."

\A/

Mike gathered his bags from the baggage claim and started out the door. On the trip back he'd had a nice nap, but it would be nice to get back home. He signaled for a taxi, nothing. He tried again. Instead of a taxi, a different kind of car pulled up. Shrugging, he threw his bags into the back and hopped inside Saint John's vehicle.

"Thanks for the pickup buddy, but I wasn't expecting a pickup. Aren't you supposed to be working? Oh wait, it's two in the morning. Aren't you supposed to be sleeping?"

"I'm not the only one missing out on a restful night, but if you'll fly I can catch up on our way to England." He continued focusing on the road. Now onto the interstate, they headed out for the outskirts of town.

"I like to travel as much as anybody and England's alright, but we just left the airport and you can't drive to England. Cars and miles of water don't mix well."

"We're flying- in Airwolf."

"Oh. That's better than the airport anyway, no baggage checks. What're we going for?"

"Not pleasure. By the way, don't get shot, even a graze could kill you."

"I wasn't planning on getting shot, but I don't think a graze would literally kill me."

"It could if this doesn't go well."

"What'd you mean?"

"String got out of the hospital yesterday; he's back in today."

"Why?" Mike queried.

"Those bullets are filled with slow acting poison."

"Not cool. He's gonna be alright though, right?" he asked, his voice full of serious concern.

"I hope so; that's why we're going to England. We have to find a cure."

"That bad?"

"The doctor gave him maybe a week," Saint John answered gravely.

"Let's get going then; the clock is ticking."

Saint John pulled into the entrance of the cave. Before long, both of them had changed into their flight suits and done a thorough pre-flight check. Each climbing in, they started up the chimney.

\A/

The nurse rushed out of String's room. "Doctor, Dr. Thomas! We need you in the ICU!"

"Who?"

"Hawke, Stringfellow Hawke."

Joining the hustle, he came in.

"We're losing him!"

"Get the crash cart," the doctor instructed.

\A/

Cait walked numbly out of the room.

"How is he?" Dom asked, somehow missing the flurry down the hallway.

"Worse."

What could they do to get him back? They had to do something. Caitlin was already a wreck, and wouldn't be much better. Even Michael had had better days. String had battled some pretty fierce things, had close calls with death more times than anyone wanted to count, but at least the doctors had been able to try something; they had been able to try something; they had something left to try. Now, it was a matter of how long he hangs on, and there wasn't anything for him to hang onto this time.

\A/

"England's coming up," Saint John reported. "Let's go in now. We can't afford to wait."

"I'll go in," Mike volunteered, "you can stay and provide a diversion."

"She's not here."

"What?"

"Chrissy Moffet isn't inside that building."

A beep from the communications panel warned them of the incoming transmission.

"It's Locke."

"Hi-uh Jason," Mike greeted, "we're currently a little busy, so please try again later."

He ignored them. "How fast can you get to England?"

"Pretty fast."

"Marella's being held captive there by someone named Chris who wants to make an exchange."

"What exchange?"

"Airwolf for Marella and an antidote, she said you'd know what she meant."

"I do. Where do we make the exchange?" Mike asked.

"By the Thames River. Mike, you can't let her have Airwolf, but you've got to get Marella back; I don't know anything about the antidote."

"It's for String."

"Mike, I just heard from Michael. Hawke's probably only got a few hours; he's going down hill fast. The doctors are doing all they can just to keep him alive and he's definitely not doing any better."

"Sounds like we had better get a move on then."

"By the time you get there; it'll probably be too late already," Jason told him. "He won't be able to hang on long enough for you to get there and back."

"We're already in England. Got to go, Jason."

Somehow, they had to save Marella, get rid of Chrissy, find and antidote, and get back with it before String was dead, and right now it didn't look like that gave them very long.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

It didn't matter anymore. He was beyond pain, beyond everything. It didn't matter whether he fought or gave in; he was here, wherever here was. A sudden jolt brought him back to semi consciousness. Even it was painful. He could feel himself slipping away again and with it all the pain… Another jolt. More pain. Why did they want to bring all this pain back to him? He wanted to let it go. He finally knew he was dying. There it was, they wanted him back, but there was nothing left, no power, no life, no will. He'd finally gotten too far over his head; he just couldn't handle the pain anymore. Cait, Chance, they were there; they wanted him back, needed him, but he had nothing left to give. He'd already given it all he had. "I'm sorry," he whispered, and the slow beeping for the heart monitor turned into one long mournful siren.

"Bring him back!" the doctor ordered and started giving directions, trying to keep him alive, but there are some things only God can do.

\A/

Airwolf landed on the river bank and Mike climbed out. "You win Chrissy. Give me the antidote and Marella and you can have Airwolf."

Marella struggled in her grasp.

"Why Mike? You know you can't get back in time to save Stringfellow. Call now; I'm sure you'll find him already dead."

"Just give them to me, and it won't matter to you anymore. I told you, you win, but I still want Marella and I doubt you're going to sweeten the deal any."

"Have it your way, but don't worry about your friend. I took the liberty of calling my friend at the hospital, and he said Hawke died just a couple minutes ago."

Mike pretended that didn't hurt him in the least. "I'm sorry to hear that. Hawke was a good pilot, but at least now I can have the pilot's seat full time."

"Forget so soon? You gave Airwolf to me. Personally, if I were you I'd stay in England. Your country is going to be experiencing heavy missile fire." She tossed her head defiantly and hoisted herself into the pilot's seat. "Have your antidote and your girl. I'm the new chief pilot of Airwolf." She sat down in the seat and shut the hatch door.

Like a wolf waking from her slumber, Airwolf growled and came to life, but not without question.

'Chief pilot- Chrissy Moffet. Error. Does not match. Chief pilot Stringfellow Hawke.'

'Orders?'

Nothing.

'Orders? Where was he?' it was like a young child without a mother, no one to turn to. Her programming told her to use a secondary pilot if the primary wasn't available. But which one? There were several secondary's that wanted different things. 'Chief pilot, Stringfellow Hawke?'

\A/

"Daddy!" Chance wailed.

Caitlin tried to hush him. "Shh, no daddy. You have to be quiet."

He continued fussing.

She took him outside. How could she explain to a child only one that his father was probably already dead? She couldn't understand it all herself. "Chance, daddy's gone. He isn't coming back. Baby, I'm sorry," she herself started crying.

"Da-ddy," he insisted then remained quiet.

Finally she took him back inside.

"What was that about?" Michael queried.

"He wants to see his daddy. Can you make it happen?"

"Cait," what difference did it make? "He's gone. I could hear the heart monitor myself."

"Please, Michael."

The doctors gave one last effort to restart his heart. This time they got a faint beat. "He's a fighter," Dr. Thomas said adumbratively. "I don't think it's going to do much good though unless we can find an antidote. The poison has already spread throughout his body and he can't afford to get any worse."

"I know," Caitlin answered, "but I need to see him one last time."

Chance sat on the bed next to the lifeless, dull body. 'He'd spent too much time here,' she reflected sadly, 'this wasn't what he would have wanted. She knew he would have preferred to die just about any place other than a hospital, and yet… It was too late for that now.'

"Daddy woof."

"No, daddy can't play dogs today," she gave the slightest half smile. At least she still had Chance.

"Daddy woof."

"Do you woof like a dog?" she played, String would want her to, or at least prefer that to her crying over him.

He looked almost frustrated. "Daddy woof."

"Daddy's wolf," she said aloud in realization.

He gave her a wide smile. "Woof."

Was something wrong with Airwolf? Maybe, that was where Saint John had gone; he tried to find some antidote.

'Orders?'

"Sinj…." he struggled. Every force in earth seemed to be against him, but at least he knew his brother had tried. It was comforting to know he hadn't just left.

'Sinj, scanning… Closest file reference to Sinj, Saint John Hawke.'

'Orders?'

What was that? Random words appearing in his head, now that was odd.

'Orders?' the voice repeated.

"Duh, it's Airwolf," he scolded himself. String had said something about her 'talking to him.' "How could I be so stupid?"

Chrissy whirled around to see Saint John in the back. "I should've known you'd come along."

'Open right hatch door,' he commanded.

'Hatch open.'

The right door flew open with a powerful whoosh, and the second Chris made the mistake of turning around to see what it was, Saint John ended their problems with Moffet.

Mike and Marella took advantage of the situation and climbed in.

"What took you so long?" Marella asked.

"Let's just say we had a few mishaps."

"Where's Hawke, uh String?"

Hospital. Hopefully still alive." 'Airwolf find the quickest route back to the Van Nuys Community Hospital.'

'Affirmative.'


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

"Sinj?" she repeated. "Oh, Saint John went after the antidote."

She received no answer.

"String, you still with me?" she whispered.

She saw a slight twitch.

"Hang on,String," she pleaded desperately. "He's got to be on his way back by now. Just hang on."

"Cait,...I love... you."

"I love you too, and I'd like to keep you around for a while, you lunkhead, so hold on."she cried, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"N-noth-ing," he said disjointedly.

"Yes, something,... anything." She took his hand in hers and smiled as Chance followed suit, taking a surprisingly strong grip on his father's much larger hand. "Now, we've got you, but you have to want to hold on."

The warmth felt good against his clammy pale skin, something ought to feel good, he thought sourly. "D-dy…." his hoarse whisper trailed off.

"No, not dying. Don't you dare," she commanded frantically. "Living String, you have to keep on living."

'He saved your life when it still meant something to you,' NiHong's words trailed into his head. His life did have meaning again, but only if he kept on living. "t-ten percent."

'Even then, there's only about a ten percent chance he'll live…'

"Forget it, all of it. You never listen to the doctors anyway," Caitlin said. She didn't think now was the best time to start. "Just hang in there a little longer."

\A/

Above, Airwolf landed on the roof. Mike and Saint John climbed out, hitting the ground running and not the least bit concerned about changing out of their Airwolf uniforms.

They barged in, ignoring the array of signs that cluttered the floor with various medical information and warnings. Saint John slammed through the heavy door into String's room, skidding across the tile floor as he did so. Strong, steady hands took his brother's arm in his, quickly administering a syringeful of the medication and praying it would be enough as he did so. "Hang on little brother," he whispered huskily.

"Have any idea how long it takes to affect anything?" Mike asked.

Saint John shook his head. "Hopefully soon." It looked like String was fighting for every breath he took and he was getting too tired to fight much more. It would kill him to be this close to saving his brother and fail by being just a little too late.

Feeling like the rope in a tug of war game, String had to choose a side. So easily he could just slip away and never have another pain, but his family wanted him; he would have to fight and it sure wasn't an easy fight to live, but he could imagine the grief that would plague them all if he didn't make it, ... all the memories he'd never get a chance to have. Chance was just starting to grow up, and Saint John hadn't been back in the states that long. He was even starting to get along pretty well with Mike. If he could hold on long enough for the medicine to start taking effect, with the support of his family and friends, maybe, just maybe he could live through this too. After all, wouldn't want to disappoint anyone who might be following his record for proving the doctors wrong.

'Alert, hatch door still opened.'

Starting in surprise, Saint John realized they'd been in such a hurry they hadn't properly secured Airwolf. In frustration, he started to leave the room, afraid to leave his brother, unsure whether he'd still be alive by the time he came back, yet knowing he couldn't leave Airwolf unsecure.

'Shut hatch,... secure systems,... and override all Moffet files,' String commanded weakly.

'Secured, files overridden. System Standby.'

Barely daring to hope, Saint John glanced to his brother, who gave him a weak smile as his vitals started a slow upward climb and his heart rate steadied.

"Don't bother getting up," his brother murmured, his voice the barest of whispers. His labored breathing eased, the weight on his chest subsiding somewhat.

Maybe, just maybe, he thought, he could find the strength to keep fighting. His weak grasp tightened, just slightly on Caitlin's hand. He certainly had enough reasons.

"Here we go again with the don't bother stuff," Dom rolled his eyes, "and I ain't bothering' none, cuz it didn't do me any good last time."

Caitlin looked confused, "What'd I miss?"

"Nothing," Dom and Saint John both answered, looking at String. Saint John was surprised to note there were tears in his eyes.

Hanging onto his father's hand, Chance giggled happily. It was like even he knew what was going on and she didn't, but no one would tell her. "Oh well, I'll figure it out eventually." So long as String was okay, she really didn't care if she ever figured it out.

"Let's just hope not under the same circumstances though," Saint John remarked, wiping suddenly moist eyes, watching his brother's vitals improve out of the corner of his eye.

"Yeah," String agreed softly. "I could skip ever having to go through that again."

Caitlin still looked puzzled. Shaking her head, she gave up. Whatever it was could wait; she'd had plenty of excitement in the last couple days.


End file.
